


The ground I stand on

by ArielAquarial



Series: Non-negotiable [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Castiel Whump (Supernatural), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Suicide Attempt, Touch-Starved Castiel (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:42:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23107942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArielAquarial/pseuds/ArielAquarial
Summary: Homeless, hungry, and lonely, Cas is just barely eeking by. It could be worse, he tells himself. He has his car, a job at Gas-N-Sip, and access to daily showers, but it only takes one misfortune for his life to fall down around him.Prequel to Non-Negotiable.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Non-negotiable [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1117233
Comments: 10
Kudos: 71





	The ground I stand on

**Author's Note:**

> Read tags for trigger warning.
> 
> Its been a while since I updated this verse! Rest assured that I am planning a sequel to Non-negotiable. It might take a while, but I'm going to give you guys that happy destiel ending the boys deserve!
> 
> Can be read as a stand-alone, I suppose...although you might miss a few details.

It was three hours into his six-hour shift when he heard his phone buzz. He glanced towards the employee locker with a frown, and then went back to replacing the fountain drink syrups. He was curious, of course, but Nora had recently reminded all of her employees that phones were not allowed while on the job. She’d fired someone before due to phone usage, and Cas couldn’t afford to lose his job. His phone vibrated loudly against the metal of the locker once more, but he ignored it. Once he attached the tubing to the nozzle, he left the storage room and grabbed a cup for the fountain machine. It only took a second for the syrup to pump through, and suddenly, the diet Pepsi was back to being operational.

He took a second to wonder about who would have texted him. It couldn’t be Nora, she knew he was working and would have called the store's phone if she needed to reach him. Cas sipped from the cup, grimacing at the taste of way too much carbonation and far too little syrup, but Cas was one who hated waste of any kind. With a pang of sadness, he realized that other than Nora, no one really contacted him on a regular basis.

The bell rang as a customer entered, pulling him out of the depressing thought. The woman paid him no mind as he wandered back to the register and waited for the woman to finish pouring coffee into a large thermos. Once she had paid and left, Cas took the scanner and began checking for any out of date food items. There were only two out-of-date food items this time: a small apple pie, and a bag of sour gummy worms. On a good day, there could be four or five items. The temptation to be disappointed was strong, but Castiel recognized that Nora had a business to run, and any tossed item was tossed money, so he reined in his emotions. Sparing a glance towards the parking lot, he took his chance to rush into the storage room and stash the snacks into his backpack. He wasn’t doing anything wrong, he had to remind himself. Nora didn’t care if employees took the out of date food, she was a kind woman who allowed her employees many benefits, but that didn’t stop it from feeling like stealing.

Cas had to remind himself that he didn’t have a choice. You couldn’t really be picky when you were broke. If a bag of sour worms and a little apple pie fell into your lap, you couldn’t afford to turn your nose up at it. Nutrition be damned.

Another ding of the bell met his ears, and he scurried back out into the store, ready to finish his shift. Alfie would be coming in at 11 am in preparation for Cas leaving, and until then he still had a whole list of things to do.

He cleaned the bathrooms quickly and then moved on to sign for the delivery of chips that had just been dropped off. After he restocked the shelves, cleaned the Slurpee machine, and dealt with the pre-lunch rush of customers, Alfie was walking through the door. With a sigh, he allowed himself to slump against the counter and give the young man a small smile.

“Hey, Cas!” Alfie greeted happily. “Did the morning shift go well?”

Cas nodded. “As well as can be expected. I’m going to…” he trailed off and gestured towards the backroom.

Alfie looked up from where he was attempting to pin in his nametag. “Of course, Cas. I’m ready to go.”

Cas nodded his thanks and took a second to grab a hotdog off of the rotator and a bun. A little bit of mustard and some white onion, and he was walking to the back and taking his lunch break. He always preferred to wait for Alfie, even if it was close to the end of his shift. Cas didn’t have an official lunch break due to the fact he was the only one there in the mornings, and he preferred not to have to stop midway through his lunch to help a customer. Waiting insured that he had time to eat in quiet, with the added bonus of being able to leave almost as soon as he was done.

After the last bite of his polish hotdog was done, Cas decided to check his phone. Typing the code in, he unlocked his phone and saw that he had two unread texts, both from Michael.

_Michael (8:37 pm):_

_Cassie, baby. I miss you._

_(8:40):_

_Call me?_

He shut his eyes hard and took a second to calm down before he clicked his phone off and shoved it back into his pocket. He walked directly back into the store and got to work finishing up his tasks. He couldn’t dwell on the messages. He’d been down that path before, and it was never a good one.

**o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o**

The cold air bit into the exposed skin on his face and cut through his thin hoodie. There was nothing he could do but adjust the backpack weighing down his shoulders and trudge on towards his goal. The gym. 

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and his hand gripped tightly around it, hoping that the pressure would stop the buzzing, but no luck. With every buzz, Cas flinched. It was Michael again, he just knew it.

A wall of warmth hit Cas as soon as he pushed open the glass doors. He quickly forced them shut behind him, unwilling to let any more of that blessed heat out of the building. Benny was behind the desk, as usual, his large arms folded across his chest, and his head nodding as he listened to a customer. He remembered the first time he had walked into Benny’s gym and saw the man. He had been large and intimidating, clearly able to lift heavy weights without breaking a sweat, but despite his appearance, he was a kind man. Taking out his key ring, he scanned the small pass at the front desk and stuffed his keys back into his pocket. Benny was still talking to the customer, but he still took the time to glance Cas’s way and give him a nod of acknowledgment. Awkwardly, Cas waited, his hand gripping his phone unsurely. He really needed to have it charged. The battery was already at less than 10%, and as old as the phone was, he was worried that the battery would drain completely overnight.

Benny took pity on him, and without taking his attention from the customer, he held out his hand. With a grateful exhale, he placed the phone in Benny’s large palm and hurried to the locker room.

Carefully, Cas shoved his backpack into the locker and began undressing. Sometimes, if he had any spare coins, he would change into a loose-fitting shirt and gym shorts, and then jump into the sauna for a little bit, but Cas couldn’t afford to dirty any more clothes. No, his goal for the night was a nice warm shower.

The water was hot, and the provided soap/shampoo wasn’t the best, but it was all he had and it did its job. There was a time, right after he began living in his car, that he had a nice bottle of old spice soap, but that bottle was long gone.

After his shower, Cas dried off and tied the towel around his waist. He pulled his backpack out of the locker and rifled through it until he found his toiletries. His first order of business was to shave the beard he had been growing. Nora didn’t mind a bit of scruff, but every once in a while, she would eye his facial hair and give him a look that clearly said ‘Shave it before I have to ask.’ Earlier that day, he had gotten that exact look. He pulled out his disposable razor and used the last of his shaving cream to give himself a clean shave, the dull razor only cutting his chin once. He put a new bag of disposable razors on his mental shopping list.

Next, he pulled out his toothbrush, an old thing that clearly needed to be replaced, and a travel-sized tube of toothpaste that was still new. He flossed, ran a comb through his hair, and then went back to the locker to get dressed.

He took a moment to just sit on the bench, fully dressed and soaking in the warmth of the room. It couldn’t have been more than 70 inside the gym, but compared to the frigid winter air that was waiting for him outside… it was like heaven. He dreaded leaving the gym, to have to curl up in his freezing car and try and stay warm while the snow fell around him. Once he was sure he’d been inside the gym for at least an hour, he got to his feet, gathered his things, and headed back towards the front desk so he could collect his phone.

“Hey, brother,” Benny greeted as Cas walked back towards the door. The large man stuck out his hand and waited patiently for Cas to shake it. “How you been today?” 

Cas shrugged, unable to form an answer. He was just tired. So tired. “Fine, Benny. And yourself?” 

He smiled. “Not too bad, these days. My wife just got a new job, so we’re pretty busy.” 

“Do you see each other a lot?” Cas asked curiously. 

Benny looked pleased that Cas had asked. He understood Benny’s excitement, he supposed, it was not often that Cas prolonged their conversations. It was hard for him to talk to nice people like Benny. All it would take was one wrong word, and Benny would know. He would realize that Cas wasn’t worth it, and then that would be one more person to add to the long list of people who’d left him. “Not really. She works mornings at an office and I work nights. I tried switching shifts, but so far no luck.” 

Cas frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that, Benny.” Cas’s phone vibrated against the wood of Benny’s desk, drawing their attention. With a shrug, Benny grabbed it for him, unplugging the device and handing it over to Cas. Clicking on the screen briefly, he checked it. 7 unread messages. He placed his phone back in his pocket and brought his attention back to Benny. 

Benny’s smile widened. “Thanks, brother, but you know how corporations work… they suck the life out of you until you’re nothing but a machine.” 

Cas thought of Michael, of how he had been when they first met. Happy, full of life… loving. He had watched as his boyfriend's smile slowly died, how he had started putting in more hours, how he had started taking it out on Cas. “Yes, I do.” 

He turned to leave but was stopped by Benny’s hand on his arm. “Wait. I got something for you.”

Cas turned his attention away from the frosted glass doors and back to Benny. “Yes?”

He reached under the counter and pulled out two protein bars. “Here ya go. They’re about to expire and we just got a new shipment today.”

Cas hesitated, afraid that Benny would get in trouble for giving away perfectly good food. There was a reason that Cas never marked food at the Gas n’ Sip as expired prematurely. He was absolutely terrified he’d get caught and fired for stealing. “Benny, I can't.”

Benny shrugged. “Well, I’m going to have to toss them. I hate this flavor and as you can see, I’m the only one here tonight. If you don’t take them, they’ll have to go into the trash.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell the man to give it to someone else, but at 8:30 at night, the gym was almost empty. “Are you sure?”

The man gestured for Cas to come closer. “Yeah. I wouldn’t offer ‘em if I wasn’t. Take ‘em, Cas.”

He walked forward, his legs rubbery with a mixture of emotions. Shame, at being so broke that he didn’t have much of a choice, and an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the man that was clearly trying to help him out. Cas grabbed the protein bars out of Benny’s hand and stepped away. “Thank you, Benny.”

The man watched as Cas practically ran out of the gym, his heavy backpack on his shoulders. Benny’s friendly smile turned into a concerned frown the second Cas was out of sight.

Once back in his car, Cas threw his phone onto the passenger seat. He’d read those texts later. The drive to Walmart was spent in cold silence, his radio long broken, and his heater only working sometimes and only if someone in the passenger seat gave the bottom of the dash a hard kick. When he finally parked, he got out of his car and walked to his trunk. It opened with only a little finagling this time, and he grabbed his bedding before closing the trunk softly. The last time he had used any force on it, it took him three hours and a screwdriver to get it open again. 

He loved his Continental, he really did. It had gotten him through months of hardships. It was sturdy, roomy, and the worn seats were comfortable to sleep on. Unfortunately, Cas wasn’t sure it would last him another year. While he had kept the interior in great condition, the mechanics of the car were failing. There was only so much he could do, even with the help of a library and YouTube videos. He couldn’t afford parts, nor the labor to get the harder jobs done. The best he could do was junk it for a couple of hundred dollars and hope to find something that would last him a few more months. Cas didn’t want to think about what he would do if he didn’t have a car. With a rough shake of his head, he put it out of his head. Best not to think of it.

When he finally settled himself into the back seat, he reached around and grabbed his phone off of his passenger seat and unlocked the screen. 

_Michael (8:39 pm):_

_Call me_

_I love you, Cassie_

_(8:45):_

_Please._

_(8:57):_

_Baby_

_I love you_

_Call me?_

_(9:17):_

_I was thinking about you all day_

Cas clicked his screen off and stared up at the beige ceiling of his car. He needed to block Michael's number, he knew it, but god… sometimes Michael texted him things that made him feel good about himself, and it’s been _so_ long since he had anyone. It was easy for him to forget the way that Michael had treated him, what Michael had said to him. 

— _worthless piece of shit_ —

— _have to do everything myself_ —

— _going to have to find me a decent fuck, because you_ —

— _Fuck, Cassie. Can’t even take a goddamn joke_ —

— _Your ass isn’t even worth the prep. Give me a blowjob so_ —

— _don’t think I’ll do the same for you. You can take care of yourself in the bathroom_ —

He closed his eyes and relaxed his body, muscle by muscle until he fell into a fitful sleep.

**o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o**

“I can’t donate plasma today?” Cas glanced over at Meg’s computer as if it could give him the answer he needed. “I always donate plasma on Tuesdays—” 

“And Fridays.” Meg finished for him. “I know, Clarence, but your iron levels are too low.” 

Cas glanced away from her computer and trained his eyes on nurse Hannah, who was currently inserting a needle into an older gentleman’s arm. He relied on donating plasma to feed him for the week. He needed this. At $30 a donation, twice a week, Cas was able to keep his stomach full, his trunk stocked with water bottles, and even store a few food items for emergencies. Working at the Gas-n-Sip barely gave him enough to pay for gas, insurance, his $10 gym membership, and his phone every month. Not to mention the money he was trying to save up for an apartment, and more recently, money for a new car when the Continental finally failed him.

Meg looked sympathetic. “Have you eaten much red meat in the last week? Dark leafy greens? Nuts? Beans?” 

He stared at her blankly, unwilling to voice his answer out loud. 

She rolled her eyes and leaned back in her chair. “Listen, Clarence. I know you’ve got this whole starving artist thing going for you, and trust me… it works.” Meg winked at his embarrassed expression. “But you have to eat better.” 

Unfortunately for him, while he had access to convenience store food on the days he worked at the Gas-N-Sip… convenience store food wasn’t nutritionally dense. He had no access to refrigeration so he couldn’t store meats, and he didn’t have a way to cook his food so he couldn’t cook himself vegetables. There were a few cans of beans and corn in his trunk, but it got harder and harder every time to eat the soggy vegetables. Mentally, he went through the duffle bag in his trunk that he used to store his food, and other than a few pieces of fruit, it was all ramen and snack foods.

He met her eyes and nodded. “I’ll try.” 

She nodded back. “Good. Want to start today?” 

Cas frowned. “Pardon?” 

She arched an eyebrow and gave him a very deliberate once over. “I’ll take you out. My treat.” 

“Mrs. Masters…” 

“The name is Meg, doll face,” she interrupted.

He kept his eyes trained on her name tag. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

“Oh, I know, but you can’t fault a girl for trying. We would clearly never work out, but trust me… a handsome face like yours is always welcome in my bed.” Ignoring Cas’s deep blush, she continued. “I still want to take you out, Clarence. I gotta pay you back for all of those pretty drawings you always leave me.” 

Cas pursed his lips. He hadn’t thought she actually looked at those. Plasma donations usually took an hour, so sketching was just something he did to pass the time. Sure, Meg had asked him if he wanted her to take care of them, but he hadn’t considered that she’d actually keep them. “I don’t know…” 

She cocked her head to the side. “You’re saying no to free food? Maybe you’re not as much of a starving artist as I thought you were.”

It was getting harder and harder for him to keep eye contact. He settled his eyes back on her name tag. “I don’t want to impose.”

She actually laughed. “I’ve never had to work so hard for a not-date.”

“Ok,” he relented, the shame turning his face red. If he was lucky, wherever she took him would have large portions so he could have food the next day. Without this plasma donation, he’d have to dip into his meager car fund. “I’ll go out to dinner with you.”

“Wow. That begrudging tone is making me weak in the knees.” She smiled in victory, her eyes crinkling prettily at the corners. “I get off at 5. Wanna meet me outside?”

Cas nodded and stood. There was no point in lingering if he wasn’t going to be able to donate. As he turned, Meg’s arm shot out to stop him. He turned to her, an inquisitive eyebrow raised. She glanced around before opening a drawer at her desk and pulling out a crinkled bag of Famous Amos cookies. She shoved it at him with a wink and gestured for him to shoo.

He clutched the snack to his chest and rushed out of the building. Technically, since he didn’t donate, he wasn’t supposed to have any of the food, so that act of kindness was enough to make his heart clench painfully in his chest and his eyes tingle with the threat of tears. It had been so long since someone had been kind to him just because they wanted to. Nora was kind to him, but he was an employee and It was in her best interest to make sure he wanted to continue his employment. The customers, on the other hand, could be horrible. There wasn’t a week that went by where he didn’t get yelled at by at least one customer.

He rushed through the cold, fumbling with his keys for a moment before he was able to get the car open. He started the car immediately and turned the heater on full blast, but the air that was coming out showed no hint that it would warm soon. With a grunt of frustration, Cas turned off the air and leaned back in his seat. Already, his eyes were watering. His money was running out, and fast. There were some expenses that he couldn’t give up. His insurance, for example. He already reduced his phone plan to the cheapest he could get it, but it still pained him to pay it each month. The gym membership he refused to cancel. He didn’t work out, but to him… a hot shower was a necessity.

Out of habit, he glanced at his dashboard, but the display had long since broken and the clock along with it. Instead, he pulled out his phone and checked the time. It was 2 pm. Three hours until Meg and he would be able to eat.

Instead of leaving, Cas rolled his seat back to give himself more room, and took out his sketchbook. His graphite set was almost to the nub, and he would kill for some acrylic paint… but the second he touched that paper with his graphite pencils… the world melted away. By the time he was halfway through the sketch, he realized that Meg’s heart-shaped face was beginning to emerge.

With a small smile, he decided he just might keep this one.

**o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o**

“Do you need to get that, sweetheart?” she cocked an eyebrow at him, and Cas couldn’t tell if she was curious or annoyed. Cas was currently leaning more towards annoyed.

It had been buzzing every few minutes, and because of that, he knew exactly who it was. “My apologies. I’ll silence it.” He pulled it out quickly and silenced the phone without checking the messages.

She took a sip of her peach lemonade. “You sure? Sounds important.”

He plastered on a smile. “It's not, I assure you.”

“I like the way you talk, Clarence,” she teased. “You make me feel classy.”

He wasn’t sure what to say to that. “My father was a professor, so I supposed I picked it up from him.”

“Oh yeah?”

He nodded. “He taught religion.”

“Wow. I bet that was fun.”

Castiel often misinterpreted sarcasm, but in this case, he knew that she wasn’t being genuine in her surprise. In the short time he’d known her, he’d realized that she is very obvious in her sarcasm and distaste. He appreciated that about her. The transparency made him instantly more comfortable around her. He felt that out of everyone, and despite the sarcasm, she was probably one of the most honest people he knew. Cas felt that if she didn’t like him he’d know right away, unlike everyone else. “It was trying at times.”

The waitress wandered over and took their order. Meg ordered the salmon, and Cas reluctantly ordered the chicken with a side of vegetables and rice. He would love to order a hamburger, but the leftovers would simply not keep well. Chicken and vegetables, on the other hand… if he shoved the takeout box in the trunk, the winter temperatures would keep it cool enough for the next day. Hopefully. He hated that he had to think like that, but he had no choice.

“So…” Meg started. “How does the son of a professor become an artist?”

Cas shrugged. “My father was actually very supportive.”

“Surprising,” she drawled. “My parents owned their own business and wanted me to take over. You’d think a parent would be happy about their kids getting into the medical field, but you’d be wrong.”

“My parents have passed now, but I’ve always appreciated my father’s support growing up. Now, more than ever.”

She gestured widely at him. “And how is the artist thing treating you?”

He shrugged. “Well enough.”

She was looking at him, her brown eyes searching. “So, the starving artist isn’t just a stereotype.”

Cas didn’t reply, instead, he took a sip of his water.

“It’s unavoidable, Clarence.” She was shaking her head in disappointment. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to take my phone number.”

He almost choked on his drink. “What?”

“Well, someone’s got to feed you, don’t they?” She looked at him like he was an idiot. “You and I are going to start having a couple standing dinner dates. Tuesdays and Fridays. Understand? You’re already going to be there for the plasma donation, so you better hang around for our dinner date.”

Cas opened his mouth, ready to argue, but she cut him off with a glare.

“You going to stand up a lady, Clarence? I’d be awfully heartbroken if you didn’t show.”

“But I don’t have any—”

“Money?” she inserted. “You can pay me back in sexual favors.”

Cas’s face turned red and he choked out a garbled, “What?”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, fine. I see when these—” she leaned forward, her cleavage on display. “—aren’t working. You can keep drawing me those pictures, Clarence. I’m serious.”

“Meg… you don’t have to.” His voice was no more than a whisper. “My drawings aren’t worth a meal.”

“What, you don’t think it’s a fair trade? Well, I happen to like those drawings, so I think I get to decide if I want to buy you a meal or not.”

He wasn’t sure that was how it worked, but his food was being placed in front of him and Meg was no longer even looking at him. They ate in silence, the noise of the restaurant supplying a distracting hum of background chatter.

“So,” Meg begins after pushing her plate away, “I’ve seen what you can do with a pen. What else can you do?”

Cas relaxed at the easy topic. “I love to paint. Oil, acrylic… anything.”

“Really?” She asked. “Ever sell anything?”

“Yes,” he answered, “a few.”

“Wow. So you’re an actual artist, then? Can you show me anything?”

He pulled out his phone, ignoring the growing number of notifications, and went to his gallery. All of the paintings were long gone, Michael made sure of it, but he never forgot to take a picture of it before Michael gifted them — or sold them (he never found out what happened to them) — to other people. “Swipe left.”

She arched a brow at him. “If I swipe right, will I find the nudes?”

He blushed and shook his head. “No.”

Meg winked at him and began thumbing through his pictures, pausing to zoom in every once in a while. Always a little shy at people looking at his work, Cas pushed the leftovers around his plate and waited for her to finish.

“Clarence…” she handed his phone back to him. “These are actually really good.”

He took his phone from her, finally forcing himself to meet her eyes. “Thank you.”

“I bet your place is super artsy, right? Canvases and shit everywhere. I know how you creative types can be.”

Cas just smiled at her, not wanting to lie, but also not wanting to admit that he lived in his car.

She nodded at his silence. “Probably some studio apartment with brick walls or some shit like that, right?”

“I do love natural brick,” he said in lieu of an answer.

She rolled her eyes at him and took a bite of her dinner. “You done eating?”

Cas nodded.

Meg made a humming noise and pushed her own mostly finished plate away. “Want dessert?”

“No thank you.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m getting you a dessert, and I don’t want to hear a word about it. Pie or ice cream?”

He was beginning to realize that arguing with her was futile. “Pie.”

“Smart man. Are you sure these puppies aren’t doing it for you?” She grabbed both breasts, jiggling them for effect. “The girls have made many men weak in the knees, you know.”

“They’re lovely, but breasts don’t do much for me.”

She released her chest and pouted. “That’s a shame. Worth a try, though.”

He huffed out a laugh. “Thank you, again.”

“We need that iron up if you’re going to be back on Friday. Just do me a favor and eat a little better.”

That night Cas decided to stay in the gym’s parking lot. Sandwiched between a large truck with a Louisiana decal and a fancy Prius, he got comfortable in the back seat with his wool blankets and finally pulled his phone out of his pocket.

The messages started out as they usually did.

_Michael (2:40 pm):_

_I miss you_

_(2:43 pm):_

_You never reply to me anymore_

_(3:12 pm):_

_We used to be so good together, remember?_

_(3:15 pm):_

_Answer me, Cassie_

_(3:21):_

_If you don’t reply I’ll stop texting you_

_(3:39 pm):_

_Fuck you_

_(3:40 pm):_

_I never liked you anyway_

_(3:40 pm):_

_You think you’re so much better than me._

_(3:41 pm):_

_You’re not._

_(3:52 PM):_

_You’re a worthless piece of shit, Cassie._

_(4:28 PM):_

_You should be grateful that I want you back._

_(4:29 pm):_

_Fuck you._

_(5:17 pm):_

_Do everyone a favor and kill yourself._

Cas closed his eyes and sighed. He’d heard all of that before, well… except for the last one. That one was new. 

_Do everyone a favor and kill yourself._

_Do everyone a favor and kill yourself._

_Kill yourself._

His eyes pricked with tears. It was getting harder and harder to pretend that everything was ok. That he was doing fine. He wasn’t. He wasn’t fine and there wasn’t anything he could do about it. He couldn’t afford a canvas and paint, and even if he could, there was no guarantee he would sell it. He couldn’t get another job. He could barely afford to feed himself. It was taking everything in him to maintain his pride and not resort to sucking dick in an alleyway for money. Everything was falling apart and he felt like he couldn’t do anything about it. 

_Do everyone a favor and kill yourself._ Sometimes he wished that someone or something could take the choice out of his hands. He was finding it hard to remember why it was worth it, anymore. In the beginning, it had been so easy. He had been fueled by anger. Cas had nowhere to go, no one he could return to, but he did it anyway. Now, the anger was replaced by numbness. All he could do was to survive another day, to work another shift so he could buy food and put gas in the car. Most days he forced himself to shower in an attempt to feel like more of a human, but it was a losing battle.

_Kill yourself_ , Michael had said. It would be so much easier. There wasn’t an end in sight for his predicament. He wasn’t able to put aside enough money for a deposit on an apartment, and any time he had a few hundred dollars saved up something happened to the car and he needed to send it in for a repair, he couldn’t afford quality clothes so he had to replace his more often.

_Do everyone a favor and kill yourself_. Maybe if he was lucky, he would get hit by a car.

**o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o**

Three days later, he woke up feeling off. There was a hole in his chest, dark and churning, and he could do nothing but roll over and attempt to go back to sleep. He was somewhat successful. While he couldn’t sleep for long due to the noise of the Walmart parking lot in the morning, he was able to get a few short naps in.

Pulling energy from a reserve he wasn’t aware he possessed, Cas sat up and folded his blankets. By the time his blankets were in the trunk and he was in the driver's seat, he was ready to take on the day. He didn’t have work, but it was Friday and he had a lunch date with Meg after his plasma donation. Feeling a little better, he turned the keys in the ignition and was met with a shuddering whine and then clicking. He paused and tried again, only to be met with more clicking.

He took the keys out of the ignition and stared at them. Cas had known that the alternator was bad, and as old as the car was there were bound to be countless more problems, but he thought he had more time. He tried to start the car again in vain, but nothing changed. A new alternator and the labor would cost five to eight hundred dollars. His car was as good as done. Tears leaked from his eye, falling down his cheek with no end in sight as he stared despondently at his keys. The dark feeling in his chest reared its ugly head and expanded. Cas didn’t have that kind of money. Didn’t have _any_ kind of money, really.

No longer able to stomach being in his car any longer, he got out and slammed the door. The Continental rocked from the force, and he was tempted to kick her door, to make her as ugly as the darkness swirling in his chest. More tears came, blurring his vision. He took a deep, shuddering breath, but it didn’t feel like it was enough. It felt like he was drowning inside his own body. He was as good as dead, he realized. The only reason he was able to last as long as he did was because of the protection having a car offered him. Without it, he had no means of transportation to work, and no protection from the blistering cold of the night. 

_Dead._

_You’re dead._

He felt his internal scale tipping, edging to the dark thoughts he had been trying to keep at bay. Michael’s words from days ago popped back into his head. _Do everyone a favor and kill yourself._ He laughed bitterly at himself, the lump in his throat only serving to make it painful. Michael was right. He held on for so long, beating the odds, feeding and cleaning himself so he could hold a job. He fought so hard, but now he was done. It was too much, it was _always_ too much, and now he didn’t have any fight left. He was _done._

Suddenly, as if a weight was lifted off his shoulder, he felt better. The dark monster in his chest loosened its hold and he was able to breathe. He wiped at his face, drying the tears, and looked up to the sky with a smile. It was done, and in an hour, he would be too. It felt good to know. So good. He didn’t have to fight to survive anymore, he didn’t have to suffer abuse from entitled customers who got joy from yelling at him over things he had no control over, he wouldn’t have to go to sleep with his stomach growling because he couldn’t afford dinner that night. All of his worries would be gone and it was a good feeling.

The more he thought about it, the more he knew that it was _right._ He was making the right decision for not only himself, but also those he’s burdened. Nora, always too kind when he made a mistake. Benny with his generosity and positive attitude. They would be better off without him there to bring them down.

A building entered his line of sight, and he smiled. It was tall, at least fifteen stories by his estimation. It was perfect. With a calmness he hadn’t felt in years, he stroked the Continental’s hood and whispered a word of thanks. She’d done a lot for him and he could only hope that someday she’d come to be in the hands of someone who could appreciate her.

He turned from the car and walked out of the lot with a smile on his face, feeling an overwhelming peace with his choice. It only took him a few minutes to reach the hotel and get into the elevator. The top floor was labeled as a pool, and it seemed like fate. He didn’t know what he would have done if he couldn’t access the roof, and now, that was one thing he didn’t have to worry about. It was still before ten in the morning, so when the elevator doors opened there was no one there, not even an employee. Fate, it seemed, was finding him a way.

The walls were glass interspersed with columns of brick. He approached a panel, pressing himself into the glass and looking at the world below him. t\The sun was still low in the sky, so there weren’t many people milling below. It was perfect. He saw a box of pool supplies near the shed, perfect placement to give himself a boost onto one of the pillars. He did so immediately, and swung his feet over the edge, letting his feet dangle into the air. Cas let out a breath and leaned forward, once again looking at the street below. It was a long drop, but he wasn’t nervous. In fact, he was almost giddy.

He closed his eyes and let the wind whip through his hair, his face tilted towards the sun. it was a good day, a perfect day to—

His phone vibrated in his pocket just seconds before a light jingle met his ears, pushing him out of his head for just a moment. He blinked, a little dazed. With shaking hands he reached into his pocket and pulled out the device. On his screen was the option to dismiss an alarm. _Plasma @ 11._

Oh god. Meg. She would be expecting him. He _always_ donated plasma on Tuesdays and Friday at 11 am. Then after, he had a lunch date with her at 2 pm. What would she think if he missed it? Would she worry about him? Oh, shit. His breaths started coming faster, and his vision tunneled. What would Meg think if — when — she found out what he did? Would she be disappointed in him? Would she blame herself?

He gasped and gripped the edge, his phone still in his hand and in danger of falling onto the concrete below. Oh, god. What was he doing? She had his phone number. If he missed his appointment and their lunch date Meg would call. What if a police officer answered the phone and told her what he’d done?

He had to call her.

With shaking hands, he tapped on the phone icon and waited. It rang three, four times before it connected.

“Couldn’t get enough of me?” she teased in lieu of an answer. “Listen, I have to be at work in fifteen—"

“I need help, Meg,” he whispered, interrupting her teasing.

She was quiet for a moment. “Are you alright?”

His eyes snapped shut against the sight of the concrete below him. He still wanted to let go, to push himself off the edge and into the welcoming concrete below. “No.”

“Ok, I’m pulling over. Hold on.” There was only the sound of her breathing for a moment. “Ok, where are you?”

He let out a breath, still unsure if he should tell her. He had called to cancel so she wouldn’t expect him, but the longer he stayed on the phone and listened to her voice, the less jumping felt like a good idea. “I’m on a roof.”

He heard the surprised sound that came out of her lips. “Where _are_ you?”

“I don’t know if I can—” he shook his head. “I’m so tired, Meg. I can’t keep doing this.”

“You’re scaring me, Clarence.”

“Meg, I can’t do this.”

“Whatever you’re thinking of doing, don’t. Tell me where you are so I can come over and talk to you, ok? That’s all I want to do. Talk.”

He glanced below him once again. The concrete wasn’t looking so welcoming anymore, but still, it was something he needed to do. Quickly, before he lost his nerve. Holding on to his life would only prolong his suffering. “I can't. I’m sorry, Meg, I shouldn’t have called.”

“I’m glad you did,” she offered. “Don’t ever think you can’t call me anytime. I like you, you know? You’re my unicorn.”

“You barely know me.”

“Of course I do!” she practically shouted. “I know you through your art. All of those pretty drawings you leave are like a piece of you, and they’re _beautiful._ They’re worth keeping.”

_They’re you. They’re worth keeping._

He choked out a sob. “Meg… I’m scared.”

“Tell me where you are, Cas. Please.”

“I’m on the roof of the hotel on the corner of 15th and South.”

“I’m close. Give me five minutes, ok? _Promise_ me you won't do anything until I get there.”

“I promise.” He tapped the disconnect button and set his phone down on the brick beside him. The concrete still called to him, but the euphoric feeling was gone and numbness had taken its place.

Without his phone, it’s hard to tell how much time passes before he hears footsteps behind him. A feminine grunt drew his attention and he turned in time to see Meg hoist herself onto the box. “Move over. I’m coming up.”

“No,” he insists, “it’s not safe up here.”

She just cocked an eyebrow at him, her blonde hair blowing into her face and sticking to the gloss on her lips. The sun was shining on her, highlighting the soft brown on her eyes. She was beautiful. “Then come down here.”

He debated for a moment. If he said no, he had no doubt she would force him to scoot over and sit next to him; the thought of her on the ledge with him, so petite a strong wind could blow her off, terrified him. He gulped and shifted, turning on his butt and switching so that his legs are hanging next to Meg with the box below him.

“Come on, big guy. We don’t have all day.”

His hands gripped the edge of the brick, but he forced himself to let go. “Ok.”

She stepped off the box and made room for him to slide off the column. As soon as she was able, she grabbed his hand and pulled him to the concrete and over to a lounge chair. He allowed himself to be led, the warmth of her small hand shocking to his system. Heat leached into his arm and into his body, and he belatedly realized that Meg’s hand in his was the first time he’d been touched in weeks. He squeezed back and clutched her hand in his, suddenly terrified that she’s let go.

They sat, her hand still clutched in his. She rested her head on his shoulder, allowing them to sit in silence as Cas’s heart rate slowed. He was exhausted and shaky, but her gentle weight on him grounded him better than anything. “Don’t you have work?”

“Forget about work. Why are you up on this roof all alone?”

“You can’t miss work, Meg,” he repeated, feeling even more like shit for being the reason she might get fired.

“It's fine. I called in and everything. Now, why don’t you tell me what you’re doing here.”

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, unable to believe that he was about to tell her, to dump all of his shit on such a bright soul. “I had enough. I was going to—” he hiccuped wetly, the tears resurfacing. “To jump.”

She slid her hand out of his clammy one and threw it around his shoulder, switching so that his head was resting on the crook of her shoulder. “What happened? Why did you suddenly…”

“My car broke down,” he offered.

“That sucks.” She started. “Do you need help? I can call AAA for you and use one of my tow’s.”

He shook his head, burying his face in her cardigan, surely leaking tears onto the scrubs below. “You don’t understand. I _live_ in my car. It’s my home and the only way I can get to work and the donation center. Without it…”

She squeezed him harder. “You’re homeless?”

He’d always been thankful for her bluntness, and this time was no different. While he couldn’t say the word aloud, she _could_. “Yes, but without a car, I can't get to work or to the gym to take a shower, and I can’t afford the daily bus fare, and—” he broke down sobbing.

She ran her hand through his hair and shushed him. “Why didn’t you tell me? I could have helped you.”

“You don’t even know me,” he reminded her. Of course he couldn’t go to her for help, he couldn’t go to anyone for help! If he did, they’d realize how useless he was, how Michael had known and understood how much of a waste of space he was.

“I know enough.” She pushed him back and braced her hands on his shoulders, forcing him to look into her eyes. “I know that you’re talented, kind, loyal, and although you’re not very talkative, what you _do_ say is important. You’re important, Clarence. You’re my friend and I would hate for you to… leave. I would miss you terribly.”

He didn’t know what to say. It had been almost a year since someone told him that he was important, and not just to their business, but to _them._ Michael called him a burden, and despite everything he did to make himself useful, it was never enough. At least to Meg, maybe he _was_ enough.

“Now, let's get up and go home.”

“I don’t have a home,” he reminded her, his stomach sinking at the reminder. Maybe if he played his cards right he could grab his blankets and hide them in the storeroom of the Gas-N-Sip. That way, at least on the days he worked, he would have a warm place to sleep. He didn’t want to think of the other days.

She rolled her eyes at him. “Of course you do. It’s with me. If you think I’m letting you sleep on a park bench, then you’re an idiot.”

He froze so long she grabbed his arm and tugged, using a surprising amount of strength to pull him to his feet. He shook his head at her and stared at her wide-eyed. “You can’t take me to your house… I’m a stranger.”

“I already told you, you’re not. I like you, remember? Besides, my roommate moved out two months ago and no one wants to rent her room. Apparently, I’m a _‘bitch.’_ ”

“I can’t pay you rent.” But she was already pulling him to the elevator on his shaky legs.

“I’ll tell you what… paint me something nice for the living room and we’ll call it good for a few months.”

“Meg…” he began, ready to argue some more, but she cut him off.

“I mean it. I liked those paintings on your phone and they’re probably worth a few month’s rent anyway. No arguing, ok?”

“But, Meg…”

“Stuff it,” she grumbled, practically punching the button to signal the elevator. “We’re going to get you a tow to my apartment and then we’re going home. It's not like I'm going to lock you up in my basement, alright? Leave whenever you want. I just want you to have some solid ground under your feet for as long as you need.”

They got in the elevator together, still holding hands. “Ok.”

“I don’t have a bed for you, but you’re welcome to share mine.”

He chuckled to himself for the first time in weeks. “I’ll take the couch.”

She nudged his shoulder with hers. “I swear, it’s like you don’t like me…”

He squeezed her warm palm. “Thank you.”

**o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o**

Going home with Meg was everything and nothing like he imagined. Her apartment was actually a two-bedroom duplex. The other renter on the other side of her living room was a writer that smelled like weed when he greeted them at the driveway. She explained that he was quiet, and didn’t bother her much, preferring to hermit himself inside most of the time. Despite its two bedrooms, it was small. The large couch and eight-person dining table did nothing to make it appear larger. But it smelled like her, campfires and citrus, and the large windows let beautiful light into the apartment. She showed him first to his bedroom, empty except for an abandoned side table and indents on the carpet where the furniture used to sit.

She closed the door and led him to the other bedroom. “This is mine. Do me a favor and lay down. You need your rest and I should start thinking about lunch.”

“No,” he argued, “I can’t sleep in your bed.”

“Yes, you can, especially since you don't have a bed yet. Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” And with a wink, she was leaving him alone in the doorway.

He trudged slowly into the room and stopped at the foot of her bed. Her bed was made neatly and he didn’t want to ruin it, but she had been adamant that she wanted him to sleep. He wasn’t in the mood to argue too much, so he complied. Stripping down to his undershirt and boxers, he climbed into the bed and inhaled the scent of her, realizing with a smile that the citrus was stronger here.

Cas stared at her side table, willing sleep to come, but it eluded him. Despite the fact that he was the most comfortable he’d been in almost a year, he couldn’t get rid of the feeling of wrongness. He should be dead right now, not leaching off of a woman who barely knew him. He squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath, trying to push the thoughts out of his head. The scent flooded his nose and his eyes shot open. Right in front of him, dangerously close to the end of her side table, was a candle. It was grapefruit, he realized. He picked up the candle and gave it a sniff. Cas’s eyes closed automatically and his chest warmed from the inside out, filling him with contentment he hadn’t felt for years. He placed it on the pillow next to him and let his eyes slip shut.

An unknown time later, he woke to the feeling of someone sitting on the bed beside him.

“Come on, big guy, scoot over. You’re the little spoon.”

He stared at her for a moment, weighing his options. She knew he wasn’t attracted to women, so he knew she wasn’t trying to initiate sex, but why else would she want to lay in bed with him? It took another moment, but he finally understood. She wasn’t doing it for herself, but to offer _him_ comfort. He thought of saying no, but couldn’t bring himself to. If holding her hand had felt so wonderful, what would being curled into her chest feel like? He was moving before he realized a decision had been made.

She lay behind him and reached around, folding him into her arms and curling her knees behind him. Tears welled in his eyes. Castiel felt protected, loved. She didn’t say anything to him, just held him quietly as he took shuddering breaths and cried into her pillow, only breaking the silence to announce she had made a tray of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch.

The next few days passed the same way. He’d wake up from his spot on the couch and wait for Meg to get up and make breakfast, not daring to start the process himself. He still felt like a stranger in her home, like he wasn’t supposed to be there and that any day she was going to kick him out. The Continental was in her spot in the driveway, but he doubted her and her neighbor would want him to sleep in his car if it was still on their property.

It wasn’t until later that day that he realized he had been wrong.

To his complete and utter horror, Meg came home from a shopping trip with a large canvas and a set of expensive acrylic paints. He stared at her, wide-eyed and disbelieving as she continued to pull things out of a shopping bag. Paintbrushes, paint thinner, linseed oil, and an apron.

“Meg…”

“What?” she asked, equal parts innocent and annoyed.

“This is a lot, you can't spend this kind of money on me.”

“You think this is for you? I'm the one getting the painting, big guy. I’m not going to have you use the cheap shit.”

His mouth snapped shut and he looked to his feet. Cas could see through her prickly exterior and knew that she wouldn’t have cared — and probably not even noticed — if he used the cheap shit. “Meg...”

“It’s my money, and I can do what I want with it.”

And that was final. Hours later, a sunset was taking form on the canvas. If you looked hard enough, the clouds looked a little like wings.

“Looking good.”

He turned to see her watching him, a mug of steaming coffee in hand. “Thanks. I’m a little rusty, but I think this will turn out well.”

“I didn’t mean the painting, I meant you. It’s a good look on you.”

“What is?” he asked, curiously looking at his paint-stained apron and worn jeans.

“Happiness… contentment.” He winked at him and moved to stand beside him.

He turned back to the painting, eying the yellow and orange sky and feeling the warmth of creativity in his chest. For the first time in a while, he smiled.

**o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o**

When Meg had suggested he do something for himself, he balked. “I’m painting,” he reminded her. “I love painting.”

“Yeah, but you’re painting for me. I want you to do something for _you_. What else did you like to do?”

He stared at her blankly. Michael had been controlling and stomped out his leisure time pretty soon in their relationship. He honestly couldn’t remember what he used to do to make himself happy. “I’ve always painted.”

“Clearly, but I want you to do something else. Get out of the house and get some fresh air.”

He looked at his feet, embarrassment darkening his cheeks. “Perhaps I could start running? I was on the track team in high school and I remember loving it.”

“Sounds lame, but I’ll take it. When I get home from work we’ll get you a gym membership so you can work up to running on the forest paths we have behind the apartment.”

“I have one, actually.” In fact, it had been the only thing, other than the car, that he kept from his old life. The phone had been the first thing to go. Old and constantly buzzing with notifications from Michael, Meg had taken it from him as soon as she heard about what his ex had done and the part he had played in the roof incident, and she’d smashed it into the cement. He had a new phone and number a few hours later. The next thing he had given up was his job. The suicide attempt had left him shaken and unable to return to work. Meg held his hand as he called to quit.

He thought of Benny and his kind smiled and knew he needed to go back. Meg drove him there that night and he climbed out of her car wearing brand new gym shorts and a nervous expression. Whether Benny knew it or not, Cas owed him.

With a determined step, he walked up to the building and into the doors, immediately locking eyes with the large man. Benny stared at him, shocked and open-mouthed as he watched Cas approach the front desk.

“Hello, Benny.” He started when Benny didn’t extend his usual greeting.

“Hey, Cas. How ya doing today?”

“I’m well. Yourself?”

“I’m doing great.”

And that was usually where the conversation ended and Cas left to shower, but today he wanted to actually talk to him, to get to know the kind man a little better. “How is your wife?”

Benny smiled widely. “Andrea is doing great! She just hit the third-month mark so she announced it on Facebook. Everyone is really happy. I didn't think you remembered.”

Cas just smiled, unable to vocalize that he remembered _everything_ Benny told him. “That’s wonderful. How is she feeling?”

“She’s had a bit of morning sickness for the last couple of weeks, but other than a little discomfort, she’s doing great!”

Cas smiled, genuinely happy for him. “That’s wonderful. When is she due?”

“End of May.”

He thought of the spring flowers and how he longed to paint them. “I’m happy for you. The baby] will be entering the world when the flowers are in bloom, and there isn’t a better time.”

Benny was still staring at him oddly, but he was clearly pleased with Cas’s long overdue interest in his life. “That means a lot.”

Conversation over, Cas nodded in acknowledgment and walked to the locker. An hour later, covered in sweat and pleasantly tired, Castiel waved goodbye and waited on the curb for Meg. It wasn’t until the next day that he was able to thank the man for all that he did.

**o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o**

“Cas, please,” Benny begged, his cajun accent and dark eyes pleading. “Andrea is sick so I need to take Elizabeth.”

“Are you only asking me to come so you can have a few drinks with ‘the boys’ without Andrea finding out?”

“Of course not! I—” he averted his eyes. “I was only planning on having one drink. I don’t need you to be the designated driver, just help me keep an eye on Ellie.”

Cas rubbed at his forehead, the dried on paint flaking on his forehead as he disturbed it. He loved Elizabeth, undoubtedly, but he had never been good with unfamiliar people. “Who’s barbeque is this?”

“A buddy of mine. His name is Sam.”

“Are there going to be a lot of people?”

“Maybe a half a dozen. Him, his wife, his brother, us and a few others.”

“And they won’t mind me being there?”

“Of course not! I’ve been talking you up for a while and they’re dying to meet you!”

“Benny…” he warned.

The large man clapped a hand on his shoulder. “It’ll be fine. They’ll love you.”

“Fine, I’ll go.”

Benny pulled him into a hug, popping his back in a few places with the force. “Thank you. Ready to go, then?”

Cas stared at him. “Now?”

He smiled and shrugged. “Sorry, but Andrea was feeling great this morning…”

Cas wanted to change his mind and say he was busy, but standing in the middle of his art studio, Benny could clearly see that he had no ongoing projects. “Fine, but only because you come to Meg’s parties and keep me company.”

“They’re good people,” Benny reassured him. “And I know you love burgers.”

“If the burgers are bad, I’m going home.”

Benny chuckled. “Sounds fair.”

The car ride there was short, and Cas spent the whole time getting his ear chatted into by a very excited toddler. When they arrived at the house, Cas went straight to Elizabeth, unbuckling the squirming toddler and hefting her onto his hip. He felt bad that he was effectively using the child as a shield, but Benny didn’t say anything so he pushed it from his mind. Sam’s backyard was large and green, flower pots bordered the patio and a vegetable garden took up space in the back corner. A large wooden picnic table sat on the concrete patio and a grill stood a dozen feet away.

Before he could do much more than glance around, a giant of a man was approaching. His earnest face immediately put Cas at ease. He gave Benny a back-slapping hug and turned his attention to Cas and Elizabeth.

“Ellie!” He greeted first, ruffling her fine brown hair and making her smile. “I’m so glad you’re here!”

She hid her face in Cas’s neck and made a little squeak.

  
The tall man just laughed it off and offered his hand to Cas. “Welcome to my home, I’m Sam.”

“Castiel. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Dean just put some burgers on the grill so I hope you three came hungry.”

“Benny!” A masculine voice shouted happily. They both looked over to see a handsome man approaching them, with light brown hair and freckles. Cas adjusted Elizabeth on his hip nervously. The newcomer went straight for Benny, enveloping him in a hug with a smile on his face.

They spent a moment talking about Andrea before Benny turned the man’s attention to Cas. “And with the little bug over here is my friend Cas.”

The man reached out and shook his extended hand. “The name’s Dean.”

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean smiled widely at him, and he smiled in return.

**Author's Note:**

> Comment to let me know what you think! (and to let me know if you're still there)


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